Success at last!

Well what a carry on! We have been to hell and back, but with a happy ending.

We travelled north to Rabat, where we parked up the van, hooked up the PC and printer, and set to preparing our visa application for Luda to come back to visit the UK with me.

The last time we applied was last year in Kuala Lumpur, and they turned her down flat....twice. So we were advised to keep a record of our relationship, to prove that we were a genuine couple, and not an internet arranged marriage (!!), and apply again in a year.

So this ultimately has been the reason we have had such an epic journey together. It just seemed the best idea to use what we had, ie the van, and visit the countries that we could - ie Ukraine, Turkey and Morocco.

During this time we have had identical visa records in our passports, and a complete financial paper trail of all our expenses.

I had also done extensive online research and taken legal advice from home.

So we were pretty confident that this time we had a credible application, as opposed to the last time, when to be fair it was true that we had only just met, hence the refusal.

How wrong we were!

Once again they refused the application, but this time in terms that plunged us into deep despair. I don't want to go into specifics because in the end not only did they reconsider, but did so in a manner which left us with nothing but praise for the embassy staff here, but it was a very low point for us.

We cried for a day, and then I got really angry!

The manner of the refusal meant that no matter how good the evidence was, or how genuine and law abiding we were, it appeared that they had a general policy of refusal, and we were never going to get a visa, unless we married abroad, and even then there was no guarantee.

But I had to do something, and I could think of no other course of action than to present myself at the embassy and demand to see my ambassador. I knew of course that this was a waste of time, but I had to try nevertheless.

There is no right of appeal for visit visas, except on matters of human rights or discrimination, but you can complain about the process, so I prepared a letter complaining very strongly about the wording of the refusal. Again I can't go into specifics, but it was pretty bad.

Those of you who know me well, know what a hot head I can be, but I am growing up and I knew that this was not the right attitude. So I had steeled myself to be calm and polite. I knew inside that I was going to get nowhere, but I had to do something if only for my self respect.

Now you may have a mental image of a typical British Embassy - a little stately home oasis in a foreign land with a flag flying above, cups of tea, and vestiges of a once great empire......

The reality is heavy security, pat down searches, surly guards and stainless steel security turnstiles reminiscent of a football ground.

But to my utter amazement within ten minutes I was seated in an office in front of a lady vice consul, albeit separated by half an inch of armour plated glass. When asked how she could help me, I simply slid my letter under the glass and said it would be better if she just read it.

This she did, and then said she needed to talk to somebody, and disappeared. Ten minutes later she came back with somebody from the visa section, who then proceeded to have an extremely sympathetic and decent conversation with me, during which I explained my grievance, not with the decision, but the way in which it was worded, and that we were now in such an impossible position that we had no option but to explore every avenue open to us, which was complaint, involving my MP, writing to the Foreign Office and generally being a very angry citizen - all of which was in the letter and was the result of some extensive internet research, as I had discovered we were not the only people to be suffering in this way.

I pride myself in being very well researched in matters like this, and this time it really paid dividends.

The crux of the matter was that they had no proof that Luda would leave the country at the end of her visit. My contention was that it was impossible for anybody to "prove" that they would do anything, but it was absurd that somebody like Luda, who has travelled to many countries over many years, and had the opportunity to abscond at any time, including being married in the past to an American would suddenly consider marooning herself illegally in any country, let alone the UK, as this would effectively end her travelling future, as she could never leave the UK again without immediate discovery and end up in court, deported and barred from travel for years to come.

To cut a long story short, she "suggested" that we apply again, in the light of "new information".

This seemed to me to be an olive branch, which I gratefully accepted, and withdrew my complaint on the basis of a new application. No promises were made, but officials can never make promises anyway.

So we made a new application, and as I have already said, it was successful. 

We returned to the Embassy last Friday, the day of the Royal wedding, to find that the Embassy was closed for a their own party, and told to come back next Wednesday!! This was too much! In desperation I blagged my way up the chain from the security guard, until finally the same lady offical I had met came out through the turnstile, dressed in all her garden party clothes, and handed me Luda's passport, open at the page containing her visa, and with a beaming smile, wished us good luck. And that was that, she was gone, and I was stood there outside the embassy while all the official cars were dropping off the local dignitaries arriving for the Ambassadors garden party to celebrate the wedding of Wills and Sarah!

I can't remember a more poignant moment in my recent life. I walked back to the van in a daze, where Luda was waiting.....in her own personal hell. I had clung on to hope, in the best spirit of British fair play, but Luda, a Ukrainian citizen, and with no such faith, deep down had no such hope, was waiting in despair.

We cried for an hour. As I write this the memory is still fresh and brings tears to my eyes. But the relief! Suddenly all of the positive scenarios became reality, and all of the negative ones just melted away. 

The whole process took 3 weeks, hours and hours of research, typing, emails and STRESS! We tried to live a normal life through it all, but it was impossible. It simply took over every waking minute, and our dreams as well. We were completely frazzled. 

Our lives had reached a crossroads - it all came down to a simple decision by the people who effectively govern our lives and personal freedom. Now is not the time to make political or philosophical points. We are just happy.

Compared with so many people around the world, our little situation has no relevance at all. Boy it sure makes you think!

As Wills and Sarah sip champagne on their honeymoon, boatloads of refugees are drowning between Tunisia and Italy, and thousands more all over the world, sometimes in the news, sometimes not.

And then there are people like me and Luda. Normal people who travel, meet, fall in love and just want to be together. We have met many, and heard even more stories similar to our own, and not always with a happy ending.

I was on the point of giving up - not giving up with Luda, we would have survived regardless, being lucky enough to have enough money and options to stay together even if not in the way we would have wanted. But I was on the point of giving up my faith in the British system, and the principle of the right of a UK citizen to choose a partner regardless of nationality, as long as they were honest.

So we thank that very nice lady at the British Embassy in Rabat, and we thank all of our friends and family who have supported us.

After 3 years of travelling I can finally come home, with the woman I love on my arm. We don't know if we will settle or carry on travelling yet, but at least we now have the freedom of choice. We have a visa for 6 months, ample time to decide what to do next, and find out about our long term options.

Tomorrow we make the rounds of the European Embassies here in Rabat, to see if there is the possibility to get another visa for Europe so we can drive home together in the van, which will be the icing on the cake. Our Morocco visas expire in two weeks, so it's unlikely. If not, Luda will fly and I will drive - can't have everything!!

What a bloody adventure! Sometimes I think I will just wake up and it has all been a dream.

PS.......

TRIVIA......

After months of sand and sun, it's chucking it down! All the repairs I made to the van are solid.....no more wet carpet!

Which is good because we found some lovely Moroccan carpets for the van which look great!

We crossed the Atlas Mountains on another vertigo mountain pass - this time Luda just closed her eyes.

We went to the "other" Sahara ..... in the East of the country in the interior. Spent 4 days in a sandstorm - completely different type of sand....powdery. It got everywhere, and I mean everywhere - food, drink, bodily orifices, bed, bathroom, clothes ....... took 2 days to clean up.

Saw the biggest dunes we have ever seen.......monsters! 

Glad to have had the desert experience, but NEVER, EVER want to see another dune, camel or turban ever again!!